Hello, Beastie
by Strapless
Summary: Miri found him fascinating. Evin thought he was a Copper Islander. No one knew who he was, where he came from, or what he was doing here. A Tortall x PotC crossover and certifiable crackfic.


**Disclaimer: **It's probably quite clear that I have no ownership claims to the characters, world, etc. I'm simply playing in the worlds other authors have created.

_**Author's Notes:**__ Pure, unadulterated crackfic ahoy. Consider yourself warned, mates. This is a crossover fic, written back in January 2007 pretty much as a joke and a dare. If you do the math, that's between the second and third movies, so certain (purely speculative) events obviously did not occur in either universe!_

_**Spoiler Warning:**__ If you haven't seen any movies about pirates lately, mind yourself for a spoiling._

**"Hello, Beastie"**

-- x --

"I can't believe you actually pulled it off. Your first summer training camp as Commander and not a single catastrophe, major loss of blood, mysterious fires, or angry fiancés."

"Thank you, Miri. You weren't too bad, yourself."

"Aye, and don't take it into your head to barge in on your former commander to declare your accomplishment like last time," the baron of Pirate's Swoop said pointedly, although his eyes shone with humor. "Yon lass almost became your replacement then."

Miri smirked while Evin tried to maintain his dignified demeanor in face of the memory.

"I suppose that means only you shall receive the joy of basking in my glow as I myself revel in the glorious triumph of transforming a disorganized rabble of adolescent humanity into a cohesive fighting force that will henceforth—"

Miri couldn't hold in her snort.

Evin turned a glare on her. "Bask! I want basking! Less mocking, more basking!"

The baron cleared his throat. "Lad," he said slowly, almost tentatively. "I think the baskin' and triumphant revelin' is going to have to wait."

His attention was focused out on the bay, looking down into the view of the water afforded by the tower they currently stood on.

Evin turned to look over his shoulder and Miri peered over the protective wall. To her horror and no little bit of utter and complete surprise, a tentacle far larger than a tentacle had any business being broke through the surface of the water.

Behind her she heard Evin mutter, "Oh not _again_."

- x -

It had been pure luck that the baron hadn't needed to call upon his wife, as it could easily have been just as bad luck that she was currently half a country away. The 

kraken had revealed itself in a mass of snaking tentacles and bubbles, clutching a suspiciously ship-like object, and spat it up on the shore before slipping back under the water and disappearing. Only drag marks of monstrous proportions and a trail of slime in the sand at a point nearly to the headland at the end of the bay marked that it had even existed.

Evin rustled up a group of Riders and trainees to inspect what the baron feared to be the unexpected reappearance of one of the many shipwrecks that littered the floor of his bay. As far as he was concerned, they were quite fine where they were and he had no interest in a nasty water beast collecting them for display on his beaches.

But Wavewalker bless, Miri had no idea _this_ was what might have been under the Swoop's waters.

George leaned on his saddle horn and turned to look at her. "Well, you're the expert here, lass."

"I've never seen anything like it," she replied, dismounting to get a better look. She heard Evin do the same and follow her. "Not Tyran. Marenite, maybe? No."

Fetched up on a beach, the ship loomed above them with all the arrogance of a dethroned queen. Its masts and sails were eerily intact for a shipwreck, jutting darkly ominous above them. The black canvas hung waterlogged from the masts, swinging damply and periodically dripping water onto those assembled below due to its slanted resting position. Equally eerie was the damage the ship had sustained, or rather the lack thereof, any of which had been confined to the deck itself. The stern carried the worst of it, as though something had torn through the cabin windows and carried through right onto the deck, if the pieces of longboats that she could see were any clue. Hatches along the ship's side had fallen open and curious, heavy metal tubes poked out.

She raised a hand to shade her eyes against the glare of the setting sun, peering at something on the deck.

"Any survivors, you think?" Evin asked, sounding doubtful.

She turned to him, shaking her head and—

"_Whoaaarrrgh!_"

A figure fell from the deck, limbs flailing, and hit the beach with a _whump_ and puff of sand.

"That answers that," she heard him say dryly.

Everyone—she, Evin, the baron, Riders, even the ponies—stared dumbfounded at the person who had so suddenly descended, quite literally, upon them, until the man pushed himself to his feet and stood there, swaying drunkenly.

His clothes were as wind and sea worn as he was. A tri-cornered hat that had remained determinedly on his head sat cocked back with almost belligerent aplomb, topping a faded red headscarf and a mass of dark dreadlocks. Strings of beads and 

baubles hung from the hair on either side of his face. Miri almost giggled at the two little bead-capped braids dangling from his chin.

Appearing quite unaffected, he wiped a glob of slime from his shoulder, flicking it off into the sand with spasmodic fluttering of his fingers. Rings glittered in the dying sunlight.

That task done, a crease formed across what forehead of his wasn't covered by the scarf and his brows drew together as he peered up and around himself, mouth drawn in puzzlement. His eyes were bright within their black-lined lids, a focal point within a smoke smudged and sun bronzed face. His hand remained hovering in the air, as though catching his thoughts from the wind, tangling them about his bejeweled fingers and collecting them like the trinkets in his hair.

He was fascinatingly impossible to look away from, like catching a glimpse of an Immortal for the first time, and, same as the ship he'd tumbled from, like nothing she'd ever seen before.

Evin dipped his head down, lips brushing her ear. "Copper Islander?"

Miri shrugged and shook her head in mystification, jaw half dropped.

Her movement must have drawn the man's eye because he focused on her, gaze narrowed. "Elizabeth?" he asked in a voice that was cat's-tongue rough.

Miri blinked at being so unexpectedly addressed. She shook her head, thinking the man thoroughly addled from the circumstances that had brought him here. "No, you must be mistaken."

Brows raised, eyes widened. "Oh. Apologies." His expression was anything but apologetic, his mouth widening in a private grin as he looked her up and down. A number of his teeth glinted gold. Miri was made aware of her dress: boots and fitted breeches, her tunic and shirt blown taut across her body by the breeze coming off the bay.

Evin stepped forward and the man's eyes darted between the two of them, his expression changing to one of sudden enlightenment, mouth formed into an "oh" of recognition by some unspoken communication between the two men. His eyes slanted to her and he gave a knowing little grin before shifting his attention back to Evin.

"You're in Pirate's Swoop, off the coast of Tortall, sailor," Evin said.

The man turned his entire body towards the Rider, raising his chin, and gesturing with an air of resigned emphasis, responded with, "Captain."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Captain. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. Might I ask…?" His head tilted in anticipation of the answer.

"I am Commander Evin Larse of the Queen's Riders of Tortall. This is Miri, commander of the Seventeenth Rider Group, and Baron George Cooper of Pirate's Swoop."

Jack Sparrow's gaze flickered over the indicated personages and the Riders beyond, then eyed the sword that had dropped into the sand beside him a short length away. It wasn't hard to guess the cause of that self-preserving act. One eye on the crowd, he stooped and plucked it from the sand. Once it was returned to its sheath he appeared fractionally more self-assured. Not that he had been lacking much to begin with.

"Pirate's Swoop, eh?" He laughed a little to himself. "Never heard of it, but seems appropriate."

George kneed his mare forward. "As Baron, I offer you a night's hospitality, in light of your circumstances."

Jack eyed him. "If by 'hospitality' ye mean a stay in that castle o' yours and not a stay in your no doubt lovely yet highly inappropriate for the housing of company prison cells, and if it means the serving of food an' drink will occur?"

Half distracted by the way he punctuated his speech with gestures, Miri leaned towards Evin. "He talks like you do," she whispered as Jack meandered verbally on.

Evin scowled. "He does not."

George gave Jack a look when he finished. "Take it or leave it, Captain."

He blinked, giving the briefest of pauses. "By all means, lead on!"

Jack took a hurried step forward, making the mistake of passing too close to Miri's pony. Indigo's head shot out and nipped at his hat, clamping his teeth around the brim and swiping it from his head.

Miri grabbed it before the pony could do any lasting damage. She yanked one hand back and grimaced at the gook on her fingers. "What—?"

She looked up into Jack Sparrow's gaze. "Kraken spit," he said.

"Don't you mean kr_a_ken?" Evin asked.

Humor glinted briefly in the man's eyes. "With a long a? Let's not insult our Scandinavian fellows and their pronunciatory stylings."

"Scanda-what?"

"Never mind," Jack answered on a sigh.

He gestured with a hand for the hat, eloquently demanding its return. Indigo snapped at the hand when Miri relinquished the stolen item, teeth clicking warningly over empty air. Jack swayed back and rammed his hat onto his head, eyeing the pony. The corner of his mouth tilted up.

"Hello, beastie."

-- x --

_Yes, I can't believe I wrote that, either. If you've gotten this far and still need a little hint, this story takes place after __Lady Knight__ in the Tortallan timeframe and after "Dead Man's Chest" but before "At World's End" in the Pirates of the Caribbean timeframe. The kraken that took down Jack and the Pearl had to go somewhere, didn't it, and who says Davy Jones' locker doesn't lead to Tortall?_

* * *


End file.
